A River Runs Through It

E had a scary puddle of water in his ear upon landing in Beijing but otherwise seemed fine. No blood, no real fever, no loss of appetite, so as new parents, naturally we assumed he’d punctured an eardrum. USA bound in two weeks, we worried about his stubby Eustachian tubes making the long trek across the Pacific, yet we were equally concerned about exposing him to our vision of all Shanghai medical establishments: antiseptic, overcrowded, understaffed germ fests where he’d be poked, prodded, infected, and eventually diagnosed with a cold. 

Alas, we chose a clinic a subway stop away, exited the Metro, and found ourselves staring up at a gleaming 5-storey building. Up on the fourth floor, two efficient nurses ushered us into the kids’ playroom, replete with a virtual warehouse of toys, and a sweet cherry on top: a giant fish tank. A set of computer terminals sat just around the corner for parents needing a fix.

After a few minutes scribbling on paperwork we were brought into a large room where an elderly man stood from behind his desk and beckoned us to sit. E’s Chinese doctor - fluent in English, Mandarin, and Australian :) - had trained and worked in the Antipodes for over 40 years, and was clearly the king of bedside manner. 

Minutes into the examination, E had a toy in hand, and the Doc had me looking through the otoscope at our son’s tiny, waxy drums.

“Do you see the drum?” he asks me.

“Yep, I see it”.

“Normally, they have a pearl like sheen.  His ears are a little irritated.”

“Do you see a hole?” I inquire.

“No”, he says softly. “He didn’t puncture his eardrum. It would’ve been very painful for him”.
 
The doctor is a gentle man, and his words soothe.  He continues, and explains other causes for the fluid, but the take home story is that the boy’s ears are fine and he’s cleared to fly.

And so as E climbs on top of the racecar themed examination table the doctor begins to talk about the state of medical care in China. About how structural adjustment policies aimed at shifting medicine to a market economy put health care out of reach for most nationals.  So the state responded, setting a doctor’s visit at 10 RMB (just under $2), which encouraged clinics and hospitals to push unnecessary tests and procedures just to pay their bills. The result is that private practices are increasingly rare, hospitals – now either state or investor run - are large in size and quantity, and young and old have begun to give traditional medicine a second look.  Snippets of this story are surprisingly reminiscent of the US health care maze, if you just subtract the totalitarian regime.

Forty minutes of face time with the Doc and counting. His candor inspires, but this Russian style glasnost troubles me, too, given Beijing’s historic and reactionary bans on critical discourse. What would officials think of his rhetoric if they were the fly on the wall or the fish in the tank?
 
On the way home all I can think is that the mandated media blackout on last week’s train crash won’t stop the chatter. People are mad. They love their country. And the river always finds a way around the dam.